Something in Me Has Died
by nebulia
Summary: PG13 for scene of violence. MAJOR AUJehan is alive. Marius is dead. MariusCosette.


A/N: Plot bunny written in ten minutes. Extreme AU--Marius is dead and Jehan is alive. How this happened, in a vague way: Jehan gets captured. Combeferre does the bargain in time, and they knock Jehan out to bring him over to the other side. However, when they see Javert, they think he is actually a revolutionary 'cause, oh,I don't know why. But they give up Jehan anyway. JVJ comes, but he's knocked out by soldiers. Marius gets mad, and charges. Marius gets shot. Jehan is awake for that, and sees what happens. The rest is your speculation. Enjoy.

Yes, Eponine is dead.

Jean Prouvaire stood at the door, nervously twisting his hat in his hands. A bandage was wrapped around his head, his light brown hair tied back in a ponytail, his large eyes worried and nervous.

He reached up and knocked. There was a moment, and then a young woman, her chestnut curls down around her shoulders, opened the door. Her blue eyes looked confused when she saw him.

Jean blushed. Once he was known as Jehan, because Jean was such a popular name. But now the nickname seemed childish and cheap. But the girl was very pretty...he could picture Jehan writing a poem to her. He couldn't picture Jean doing so.

He pulled a paper out of his pocket. "Cosette Fauchelvant?" he asked softly, blushing harder. Cosette was a pretty name...Dieu! What was he thinking?

She nodded. "Yes, that's me..." Her eyes lit up as she noticed his bandage. "Oh! Do you have news about Marius?"

Jean nodded. "I do, ma'moiselle." He sat down on the front step. "Please, have a seat."

Cosette's eyes went from excited to worried. "Is something...wrong?" She asked slowly.

Jean nodded, and Cosette sat down beside him, tears welling up in her eyes.

"Marius is—"he stopped. He couldn't say it. He had been to houses of mothers, of mistresses, but this girl seemed so in love with Marius...he felt tears burn the back of his own eyes. "It was a shot to the head," he said shortly. Cosette didn't cry, not yet. She was silent. "It was quick and painless. I assume you got his letter...Gavroche, a gamin, sent it off and didn't come back."

Cosette nodded. "I got it," she said. "I found it yesterday morning, on the floor. My father was gone. He came back late last night."

Jean shrugged. "He left a note in his pocket to tell you first. I go to his grandfather's next."

Tears were beginning to stream down Cosette's face. "Did he—did he—"

"Leave anything for you? Tell me to tell you he loved you? Yes, and yes." Jean shook his head. That sounded like something Courfeyrac would say, something Courfeyrac would do, interrupt the ladies. Not Jehan, who was nice to the ladies. If he ever talked to them, which was rare. Jean couldn't count how many ladies he had talked to today. "He left you a ring, and a watch. He wanted you to have them to remember him by."

Cosette was sobbing now. She buried her head in Jean's shoulder, and whispered, "How can I forget him? How?"

Jean placed his arms around her and stroked her hair softly. For once, he didn't notice that her hair was soft and glinted off the sunlight like copper, or that her skin was very soft, as Jehan would've. Rather, he noticed that she was thin, and her dress was big, and that the sun was shining when it should've been raining. It was not a sunny-type day. It was a wrong day, a day that never should've happened.

Jean didn't know how long Cosette cried in his arms, but then she looked up and said, "How did you survive?"

Jean said, "I don't know. They caught me, and Combeferre bargained with them, to trade me with a prisoner, but I guess they didn't want the prisoner back when they found out who it was. I was unconscious when they handed me over, so I don't know." A tear slipped out of his eye, down his cheek. He let go of her, feeling like he was cheating on Marius. "When I came to, they were all dead. Except for Marius and a few others, Enjolras and Combeferre and an old man, maybe, but Marius was fighting with the butt of his broken gun, yelling loudly, and they hit the old man over the head, and then Marius charged them, and someone behind him shot him in the back of the head. He went down quickly."

Cosette did not seem disgusted by this. In truth, she wasn't. Rather, she was thinking about the huge lump in her father's temple, which he had when he came back last night. She looked steadily at Jean, and took the ring and watch he offered her.

Jean said, "The brother of one of the men, who was an old priest, is holding a funeral service in the potter's field where they'll be buried tomorrow. It won't be much, because no one can know, but if you want to—"

"I'll come," Cosette said. "My father and I will come."

Jean stood. "Well," he said uncomfortably, and offered her a hand to pull herself up, "I'll see you tomorrow, I guess."

Cosette leaned up and kissed him softly on the cheek. "Thank you," she whispered, and hugged him fiercely.

When she pulled away, there were tears on the boy's cheeks. "What's your name?"

"Jean—Jehan." Jean said. He was—he was crying. Like Jehan cried. Maybe Jehan hadn't died when he was captured. Maybe he was just unconscious. "Jehan Prouvaire."

He placed his hat on his head, and blushed, and looked down. He turned and walked onto the street, and then stopped and turned around. "Don't forget him—don't forget Marius," he called, just loud enough for her to hear him.

He turned and left, walking slowly, as though it pained him.

Cosette hugged herself, The ring and watch clenched tightly in her fist. "I won't," she whispered. "I will never forget."


End file.
